College Ain't Great
by Wllflwr98
Summary: A stressed-out Cory and a concerned Topanga try to manage both jobs and college. But, when the two reach their breaking points, things are said that can't be taken back...
1. Chapter 1

_**This is story #3 in the series of stories that I will be writing that will follow the gang during the years following the end of BMW up until the start of GMW. The title of this story is very similar to the an episode title in Season 6 of Boy Meets World **_(Ain't College Great). _**Hope you enjoy, and feel free to let me know of what you think of the story below!**_

Lifting his head from his folded arms, Cory Matthews strained his eyes for a look at the digital clock on the microwave: it was 3:00 AM, and he was still up. Again.

Letting out an exasperated grunt, his head collapsed into his arms again, unable to even look at the pile of cards that he still had to study before morning. He didn't know _what in the world_ he had been thinking months earlier when he had decided to enroll at NYU. _How_ was he supposed to manage earning a degree in teaching while simultaneously taking on two part-time jobs in order to pay for both his _and_ Topanga's college tuition?

A muffled _**snore**_ suddenly came through the walls opposite Cory. And how could he forget about Shawn, who was currently looking for work after quitting his job a month earlier, leaving Cory and Topanga to pay the rent in the meantime. He was currently feeling lost and confused, as he was surrounded by friends who seemed to have their futures established: Topanga was hard at work in law school, Cory was striving towards his degree in teaching, and Eric was thoroughly enjoying working at the local orphanage as a care-taker for the kids.

Cory squinted as the overhead light in their kitchen was flicked on. Topanga, standing in her bathrobe with her arms folded across her chest, sighed as she saw that her husband was still up. Pulling a chair out from the kitchen table, she sat down next to him and reached for his hand.

"Cory, it's three in the morning, you need to come to bed now." Topanga asked.

Cory shook his head. "Topanga, I can't. I mean, I have another exam tomorrow before Christmas break, and look at all of these cards I still have to study!" Picking up the cards, he shuffled them through his hands to show her how little studying he had accomplished.

"You _need _your sleep, Cory. Otherwise, you're going to fail this test whether you've studied or not." Topanga said.

Seeing that her husband wasn't responding to her coaxing, she picked up the cards he _had _studied and offered him a deal. "Okay, how about I quiz you on what you have studied, and if you pass, you come to bed. Alright?"

Cory shrugged, resting his head in his arms again.

Topanga flipped through the cards, seeing that they all involved facts from history, as Cory's hopes were to teach history.

"Alright, here's one: what was the first book published in America?"

Turning towards her husband, Topanga saw that her husband's eyes were shut and his breathing had become calm. Somehow, in the few moments that Topanga had used to select a card, Cory had fallen asleep.

Topanga painfully smiled, feeling sympathy towards her stressed out husband. He had stayed up past midnight for the past few nights, and had walked out of every exam feeling discouraged and unprepared. Neither of them had known how hard it would be to squeeze in both college and jobs while adjusting to life in NYC on their own.

Kissing him softly on the forehead, Topanga rose from her chair and started for their bedroom, saying a little prayer that things would improve. _Soon._


	2. Chapter 2

The icy, December breeze couldn't be kept from chilling everyone in New York City, even through the layers of jackets and long-sleeved shirts that tried to protect their owners. The sky above appeared to be even more grey than usual, as the clouds seemed to be purposely blocking the city from the sun's hope-filled, cheery beams.

The depressing atmosphere definitely seemed to effect everyone that afternoon, as the passerby's that Cory tried to squeeze through were extra rough and cranky. He couldn't blame them, however, as he was feeling as moody and agitated as seemed; he was making his way back from NYU after taking his final exam of the semester, and he wasn't feeling very eager for his grades to come in.

The night before had been tough for Cory, as he had stayed up past 3:00 AM, only to accidentally fall asleep with little studying under his belt. So, he had entered the test feeling unconfident and doubtful of his abilities to leave with a grade of good quality. And it hadn't helped that he was fighting against a headache that was basically impossible to push aside.

On the bright side, however, Cory believed that during the months he had spent studying at NYU, he had never had such a spirit of eagerness when it came to education. Every amount of work he had been given were followed by diligent preparation in order to earn the best grade possible. Cory had never experienced such an excitement and determination to complete a goal in his life; he _definitely_ wanted to be a teacher, no matter what stood in his way.

He had done very well for the most part, but that was before finals had come around. Once finals were announced, Cory had spent as much time as he could to prepare for them, as he realized they would count for a large percentage of his overall grade.

Topanga began to worry for Cory as he spent hours at their kitchen table, muttering definitions, terms, and important dates in history to himself as he pushed away any opportunities to take a break or go for a walk through the decorated Central Park. She had to admit-Cory's overall diligence had greatly impressed her, yet there was still something that was bothering her: she didn't have faith in Cory's potential.

As bad as that sounded, it was true: she wasn't very confident in Cory's potential. She had seen what he was capable of in the past, and what she had seen didn't seem to match the difficulty of the work that it took to become a teacher. However, Topanga had tried to be as supportive and encouraging towards him as she could.

Anyways, as Cory found a vacant pay phone that morning on his way back from NYU, he shoved some change into the slot and dialed his home number.

After a few rings, Topanga eagerly answered; Cory had told her before leaving that morning that he would let her know how his next-to-last exam had gone. "Cory?"

Cory wearily breathed out his response. "Hey, Topanga."

"So, how did it go? Do you think you did well?" Topanga asked with anticipation.

Cory sighed. "Hard to say...but I'm not feeling very positive."

Topanga's heart ached to hear the disappointment in Cory's tone. His work ethic had been fantastic during finals, but he still lacked one important thing: confidence. "I'm sorry, Cory."

"It's alright." Cory said monotonously. "Hey, I'm headed to Svorski's to get in some studying before Monday's final exam, okay? Don't wait up on me for dinner.."

"But, Eric is coming over for dinner to watch a Christmas movie with us..." Topanga said.

"Topanga-"

"Come on, Cory, it's Friday.." Topanga pleaded, trying to convince her husband to relax a little. "You have the entire weekend to study, and you could use a break from books. All this stress isn't good for you.."

"I know, honey, but these finals are really important..."

"And you're grades are really good as it already is, Cory! Please...I promise you that unhealthily stressing like you are over these exams _isn't _goinghelp you, no matter how much studying you get done-"

"Topanga, please." Cory said firmly. "Just...let me study. I'll be home...soon."

Sighing as she heard Cory replace the receiver, Topanga hoped with all her heart that Cory's expectations for his exams would be exceeded. He _desperately_ needed the confidence.


	3. Chapter 3

The carpeted hallways were unoccupied as Topanga peeked out of their apartment door, anxiously glancing side to side, hoping Cory would soon exit one of the stairwells. It had been 3 hours since she had last talked to him, and that had been around 5 o' clock in the evening. She, Shawn, and Eric had eaten without him, and they were now beginning preparations on the Christmas tree decorations as well.

Sighing as she angrily shoved the door closed, Topanga wistfully glanced around at the apartment. It was their first year in New York, and she had expected that Cory would be there to help put some holiday season into it with everyone.

It was actually a decent apartment, considering the pitiful price range they had first come to New York with. Immediately entering it, one would step into a small, but properly furnished kitchen. A fairly large counter ran along a corner of the room, and an efficiently functioning oven, dishwasher, and fridge were inserted throughout it as a set of polished wooden cabinets ran above it all.

Stepping down a couple short steps, the kitchen opened up to the living room, which was furnished with the comfy, yellow couch from their old dorm at Pennbrook, along with their small TV and coffee table.

On opposite sides of the walls at the back of the room, two bedrooms opened up across from each other; one was neatly decorated with burgundy curtains at the windows of the tiny deck, dropping to the floor, a navy blue bedspread with pillows of a similar color, a fine chest of drawers with a TV sitting atop it, and an adjoining bathroom. This was obviously Cory and Topanga's bedroom.

Shawn's bedroom was the complete opposite of theirs. His grey curtains were always drawn together, masking the light from the city both during the day and at night; the only light in his room came from the dim, flickering glow of the TV.

In addition, one could barely cross his room without nearly falling over the piles of clothes that were spread across his floor like mines in a battlefield. His bathroom was not much better, as dampened towels and dirty washcloths laid on the floor and bathroom counter.

Anways, by the looks of things, it seemed that she, Shawn, and Eric would have to decorate it all without Cory. Filling a bowl with hot popcorn and grabbing rolls of string, Topanga placed it all in the middle of the coffee table with a frustrated effort.

"The nerve of that man, to be off who knows where when he should be here, decorating the tree with his family!" Topanga growled, pouting as she shook her head.

"Maybe he's on his way home right now." Shawn tried to assure her as he sat down and patted her knee, reaching out for some popcorn-stringing supplies as Eric snatched some and popped them into his mouth, causing Topanga to shoot a death glare at him.

Topanga shook her head. "You've seen him, Shawn. I mean, he can't poke his head out of those books for even a minute, and he always gets really snappy even when he does."

Shawn thoughtfully paid attention as Topanga vented in both concern and frustration over the whole situation. "Well, why don't you just let him study, then? It'll all be over in a couple days, then Christmas break will be around."

Topanga sighed. "I'm just worried about him..."

"How come?"

Topanga hesitated before responding. "I'm just not so sure that this is what's best for him."

"Why not?"

"You've seen his potential, Shawn: do you think Cory's made for this kind of job?"

Shawn paused, then chuckled. "Well, I mean, the guy can be a giant goofball at times, but when he puts his mind to something, nothing can stop him….and we _both_ owe him _big time_ for that."

Topanga nodded…it was true. If Cory hadn't been so persistent in keeping the spark between him and Topanga alive during their break ups, or if he hadn't forced Shawn into things that were best for him in the long run, who knows where they would have been at that very moment.

Topanga probably be up at Yale, dating some other guys who weren't even anything like Cory… Shawn would probably be in Philadelphia, attempting to pursue after photography without any college degree…and Cory himself—well, he would probably be single and alone at Pennbrook, wistfully remembering his past relationship with the woman he was now married to.

It made Topanga shudder to think of the hostility that would have existed in what little would have been left in their relationship if Cory hadn't been born with such a stubborn, yet kind-hearted nature.

"You're right, we definitely owe him for that…" Topanga said.

"Then, what are you worried about?" Shawn said, beginning to slide pieces of popcorn onto the strings. "Don't you have faith in him?"

"No, I don't, actually."

"What?"

"I don't have faith in my husband….gosh, what kind of sick-o am I?…." Topanga said, placing her head in her hands.

"Hey, don't be so hard on yourself." Shawn said, softly patting Topanga on the back. "You're just worried about him."

"He's just so excited and determined to do this, but I just don't want to see him fail…what if he just wasn't born for the hard work that comes with being a teacher?" Topanga said.

"I think you just need to trust that everything will work out okay…Cory felt led to go back to school for a reason, so you just need to trust that it was for a _good_ reason." Shawn said.

Topanga still didn't seem convinced. "But what if it was for a bad reason? Shawn, you know things sometimes come out badly, but later turn out as beneficial, right?"

Shawn paused, grinning a little as he focused on stringing the popcorn. "Really? Because so far, I haven't reached the good in the bad that I've experienced…"

Topanga frowned, suddenly feeling so selfish. Here she was, ranting on about her negativity towards Cory's unfamiliar position in life, while Shawn was still trying to recover on losing both his dad and the love of his life in the matter of a year, leaving him with no parents and almost completely alone, excluding the friendship of the Matthews family.

"How're doing Shawn? Are you okay?" Topanga reached out and began to briefly rub his back, soft concern suddenly replacing the previous anger of her tone.

Shawn smiled, shaking his head. "You don't need to worry about me, I'm fine…why don't you go find Cory and try to get him to come help us? I could use some help, because Eric sure isn't giving me any—" Shawn reached out and slapped Eric's hand as he reached in for another handful to eat, a playful smirk on his face.

"You're right..." Topanga said, getting up and reaching for her jacket on the coat hanger by the door. "He could use a break from those books, it's almost nine o' clock."

As the door closed behind her, Eric thoughtfully looked at Shawn's crestfallen face. "You're not really alright, are you, Shawn?"

Shaking his head, Shawn's tone sounded awkward and wavery. "I'm not…I'm not alright. I'm at an intersection right now, and I don't know where to turn. I've been in New York for nearly seven months now, and this photography internship isn't getting me anywhere."

Shawn trailed off for a second, still shaking his head and chuckling slightly under his breath. "I don't have a job, I don't have a family…I barely even have Angela at this point. The last time I got a letter from her was back in November, and now it's almost Christmas…"

Suddenly rising from the couch, Shawn dropped the popcorn string he was working on into the bowl and stormed towards his room, his head bent over as he ran his fingers through his hair in stress.

Eric sadly glanced over his shoulder for a few moments, then returned his gaze back towards where Shawn was just sitting. Staring out into space in thoughtfulness for awhile, Eric suddenly noticed the unguarded popcorn bowl sitting on the coffee table. Glancing over his shoulders with a comical expression, he suddenly shrugged and reached for the popcorn bowl, cradling it in his arms as he shoveled handfuls into his mouth.

If no one else was going to string popcorn, then you could count on Eric to eat it for them.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Quick note: some people who have left reviews seem to be getting the idea that Cory isn't coming back home. Just letting you know that's not what I'm trying to get at in this story at all; he's just keeps isolating himself from everyone because he's stressing over the loads of schoolwork he has to get done. Don't worry, he's not leaving! :)**_

"Hello, Topanga."

Mrs. Svorski gave a brief wave of her hand to Topanga as she walked in, speaking her in her kind and accented voice. Topanga quickly returned her greeting with a brief wave and smile, glancing towards the booth where she and Cory usual sat. There, her husband sat, squinting as he bent over his books and took a slow sip of what looked like one of his multiple cups of coffee that cluttered the table.

"There you are, Cory..." Topanga said, sliding into the seat opposite him and studying his weak expression.

"Hey, Topanga…" Cory barely looked up as he flipped the page in his book.

"Studying going well?" Topanga asked.

"It is, actually…just a lot of stuff to get through." Cory said, still focusing his attention on his studies.

Furrowing her eyebrows into a thoughtful expression, Topanga could see that Cory was still unreachable, and she would probably be unsuccessful in trying to get him to come home with her.

Topanga reached across the table and gently placed her hand on Cory's. "Honey, it's time to come home. You've been studying for hours, you _need _a break."

Cory gave one of his frustrated chuckles, showing that he was about to get upset. "Look, this isn't elementary school anymore, Topanga. This is the big leagues—I can't take a little "break" to come home and be jolly just because it's Christmas…"

"Actually, you can, Cory," Topanga responded. "You'll have all weekend to finish you're studying, but you won't have all weekend to spend a couple hours with your best friend, your brother, and your wife. We miss you—you're being rude."

"And here you are, interrupting me while I'm studying, so I guess that makes both of us pretty rude, huh?" Cory snapped.

Topanga desperately glanced back at Mrs. Svorski, feeling embarrassed at the fact that the two of them were on the edge of fighting in a public restaurant—thankfully, she was the only one there at the moment.

"You know, you're going to the same school I am, Topanga, and I don't see you studying—what's up with that?"

"I'm just as prepared for finals as you are, Cory…" Topanga said.

"Why is that, Topanga? Why is it that you say you're just as prepared for finals as I am, when I've done more studying for one final than you have for all of them _combined?" _

"I feel confident and comfortable in my career choice, that's why." Topanga whispered snappily.

"Are you saying I'm not?"

"You sure don't seem to be!"

"Are you?"

"What?"

"Are _you_ comfortable in my career choice, Topanga? Because _you_ sure don't seem to be, either!"

Topanga stared at Cory, her eyes reflecting the fear and uncertainty she suddenly felt inside. Almost inaudibly, she finally responded with a short, "No, I'm—I'm not…"

Cory's eyes widened as she responded, seeming shocked and hurt that his wife had just said that. "Why not?"

"Because—I just think my career choice is more realistic…"

Cory still seemed to be in disbelief as the words were softly spoken into the quiet of the restaurant. Then, he seemed to act like it was sinking in, almost acting like he had expected it. Sighing, he ran his hand across the back of his neck in distress, then began chuckling as he muttered to himself.

"Everyone knows Cory as the hyper goof-off who doesn't have the guts to take anything seriously…" He said to himself under his breath. "Well, maybe they're right…and it's about time I proved them all wrong."

A stabbing pain of guilt hit Topanga as she watched Cory gather his stuff into his book bag, an expression of determination wiping away the previous look of hurt that had covered his face. Why had she said what she had said?

Letting in a frigid stream of December air as he opened the door, Cory gave Topanga a hostile good-bye. "See ya later, Topanga…"


	5. Chapter 5

Sitting on the edge of his bed in the darkness of his bedroom, hearing the soft noises of character dialogue from the TV as its dim light flickered around the room, Shawn struggled with the self-pity and pain he was feeling at the moment. Mostly, however, he couldn't stop thinking about Angela. Mentioning to Eric earlier the fact that she hadn't written to him in over a month had sparked feelings of hurt and longing back inside of him.

Was there any good reason in her not calling or mailing him a letter for so long?

Suddenly feeling the urge to hear her voice, Shawn jumped for the phone that was on his nightstand and dialed her number.

Shawn's heart gave an excited leap as he heard the ringing stop, listening to the tone of Angela's voice break through. "Hello?"

"Angela! It's Shawn—"

"Oh, hey, Shawn—how're you doing?"

Right off the bat, Shawn hated how hostile her greeting was towards him—it sounded like she barely knew him. "Umm, I've been alright…Is everything okay? You have called or written to me in over a month, and, well—you sound a little hostile."

"Oh, Shawn, no! There's not any hostility at all! I'm just—it's been a hard month for me, Shawn, I haven't had the time to keep in touch with you."

"Why? What's the matter?"

"Well, it's just…my dad was pretty badly injured in war about a month ago, and I've been really busy caring for him."

Shawn began to fill panic inside as he heard those words; he had the upmost respect for Angela's father, and he couldn't bear to think of anything serious happening to him. "Is he okay?"

"I think so, Shawn—I think he'll be fine. A bomb severely injured his leg while he was fighting, and he lost a lot of blood…thankfully, they were able to get to him before he bled to death, but then it got infected and he got really sick—I think he's finally on the mend now, though."

"I hate that had to happen to him, Angela—I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

"I'm doing alright…it's just been difficult, seeing him so near—well, so near death, especially when I don't have a mom who would be there for me if he actually left me..."

"I know what you mean..." Shawn said, gentle kindness and genuine sympathy in his voice as he continued. "I'm here for you, though, and you can always call me up. I'll be here to talk. I just—I just wish I could _actually_ be there for you, you know? I miss you, Angela…"

"I miss you too, Shawn…so, how are things going in New York City?"

Shawn sighed before responding. "Well, everything's going okay…I don't actually have a job right now, but I still have that photography internship, so that's good…"

"What happened? Did you quit?"

"Yeah, I did, actually…"

"Why?"

"I didn't feel like it was getting me anywhere…I mean, I've been in NYC for seven months now, and I'm still stuck without a solid career choice, while Cory, Topanga, and Eric seem to be confident in what they're doing…"

"Oh, Shawn…" Angela moaned with a tone of sympathy and pain for Shawn. "You can't compare yourself to others, even your closest friends. Otherwise, you won't go anywhere as a person; just focus on you and what _you_ think you should be doing in your life. _Then_ you'll have more success."

"Yeah, you're right…I just wish it there was a direct path to take, you know? Some flashing arrow that was pointing me in the right direction…intersections aren't so easy to predict."

Angela laughed at Shawn's creative metaphor. "Yeah, don't we all wish for something _that_ clear…just do your best, okay? Here's a little something to get you started on: I think you have a real talent and genuine _love_ for both photography and writing…try keeping those two in mind and see where it leads you."

Shawn smiled to himself, feeling encouraged by Angela's words of advice—she was one of the only people who could make him feel so quickly uplifted when he was feeling down.

"Thanks, Angela—I'll try keeping that in mind…


	6. Chapter 6

_**Here is the last chapter of College Ain't Great! Thanks to everyone who read it, I hope you enjoyed it!**_

"Cory still not back yet?"

Sticking his head into Cory and Topanga's bedroom, Shawn felt a tender sympathy towards Topanga, who was sitting with her legs crossed in the middle of the empty bed.

A blank expression on her face, Topanga shook her head. It was a quarter after midnight, and Cory was still out in the city somewhere. She knew what she had said was pretty hurtful, but was it really enough to keep Cory from coming back home?

"Shawn, how worried should I be?"

"It's not like he's never coming back, Topanga. He loves you too much to do that." Shawn said.

"I know…" Topanga said, twisting the drawstrings of her pajama pants around her fingers. "It's just—I don't blame him for responding the way he has. I mean, what kind of wife says that to her husband?"

"I'd say, it'd be one who really cares about her husband's feelings and doesn't want to see them get hurt." Shawn slightly tilted his head, giving Topanga a thoughtful smile before turning for his bedroom.

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Feeling a bit of positivity and motivation after her brief chat with Shawn, Topanga turned the TV on and slid underneath the bed sheets, deciding to stay up until Cory returned. Shawn was right; Cory loved Topanga way too much to just disappear over something as easily fixable as this situation. The only question that Topanga couldn't stop repeating in her head was _when_ he would come back…

One o' clock in the morning was getting closer with each second that flickered on the alarm clock, and the night shows on TV were even beginning to end, leaving boring advertisement programs to follow them up.

Around a quarter till two, Topanga jerked awake, realizing she had fallen asleep by mistake. She quickly turned to see if Cory's spot in bed was filled, yet it was still vacant. Still feeling unusually alert, Topanga threw the covers aside, only to notice before her feet even touched the ground that a slit of light shone from beneath the door.

As she rushed out into the living room, Topanga saw Cory had turned on the lamp as he settled a blanket across the couch.

"Cory!" Topanga whispered in surprise. "What're you doing?"

Cory's head quickly turned towards his wife, startled by her sudden appearance. "Oh, uh—I didn't want to wake you up…"

Topanga quickly stepped towards him, grabbing his hands and gently pulling him onto the couch with her. "Cory, we need to talk about earlier."

"Okay, but I'd like to start."

Topanga paused, take aback by Cory's calm composure. "Alright, sure."

"You know, Topanga, I'm just as scared about all of this as you are. I've never felt the way I feel when it comes to this career choice…I feel like it's—right. I mean, you know how I've always wondered about how I'll turn out, or what I'm good at and things like that. I've pursued pointless things before just because there's nothing else to do, even when I wasn't very interested in it."

"But since I've been given the opportunity to go to NYU and start on a career, I feel teaching is something that was made for me. I don't even know _why_….I just feel it's something that, this time, I need to pursue."

Topanga nodded as her husband finished, then began to feel shame inside again as she realized it was her turn to explain how she felt. "Cory, I'm sorry I said I didn't have faith in you. I'm just—well, I'm just unfamiliar with the passion and drive you have towards this career. I was afraid you would get your hopes up, only to have them crushed by something."

"By what?"

Topanga hesitated, her fingers returning into their nervous fiddling with her pajama pant's drawstrings.

"Topanga, look at me." Cory said with a soft smile, lifting his wife's hands and straining his head to see her diverted eyes. "Honesty, remember? You said that in order to be married, we need to be able to tell each other everything, right?"

Topanga returned his smile before responding. "Yes, I did…and it's true, which is why you can't get mad at me when I say this—I had just seen what you were capable of in the past, and well, I guess I wasn't confident in your being able to accomplish the challenge of becoming a teacher."

Surprisingly, Cory smiled—_very_ wide. He even chuckled a little. "Topanga, I feel exactly the same way. I mean, why do you think I work so hard in school now? I realized in the beginning of the semester that in order to succeed, I was going to have to change the way I approached school."

Topanga smiled. "Well, then, I guess you understand why I felt the way I did then, right?"

"Yes, I do." Cory responded softly, smiling at his wife.

"Cory?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't think I need to feel that way anymore, though."

"How come?"

Topanga smiled, patting Cory's knee. "I realize now that you have a whole new determination in this career choice, and I know how unstoppable you are when you put your mind to something."

Smiling at Topanga, Cory felt a peace that he hadn't experienced in weeks. Maybe all he needed was the knowledge that his wife believed in him like he believed in himself in order to feel confidence towards school. "Thank you, Topanga."

"Actually, you deserve a 'thank you' as well." Topanga said with a bright smile.

"Why?"

"Because without that stubborn nature of yours, I most likely wouldn't be wearing this ring right now."

With that being said, the two of them gently leaned closer, slowly shut their eyes, and shared a long kiss.


End file.
